I did not expect my final project for HASS 103 to lead me into the streets of Hoboken, chasing down delivery drivers on e-bikes. But over the last month or so, I have found myself walking up and down Washington Street and Wittpenn Walk here on campus, phone in hand, waiting for the next Grubhub rider to catch a breath between orders. Their bikes buzz past campus all day long—through rain, wind, rush hour traffic, and Stevens crowds—yet mostpeople barely look up from their phones as the bags of food pass by.
In my first few months at Stevens, I became increasingly aware of the many delivery drivers in Hoboken. They are impossible to miss. But I had never stopped to ask who these people really are, how much they make, or what their days look like behind the scenes of the app notifications we take for granted. For my final project, I set out to investigate the inequality faced by food delivery drivers in Hoboken—what they earn, what they endure, and what their stories reveal about the modern gig economy.
What I found was a world where workers trade stability for “flexibility,” where long hours are paired with low pay, and where an entire workforce functions without benefits, protections, or even a guaranteed wage. What surprised me most was how hidden this inequality is. It exists right in front of us in big cities across the nation every single day.
The Gig Economy Behind the Screens
Food delivery apps like Grubhub, DoorDash, and Uber Eats dominate the local dining scene in Hoboken. As the platforms expanded, the city’s sidewalks and bike lanes filled with riders carrying insulated bags and racing between restaurants and customers’ front doors. But unlike traditional employees, these workers are considered independent contractors. This means no hourly wage, no health or workers’ compensation benefits, no protection if they crash, and no guarantee of steady income—even though they cover all their own expenses, from e-bike repairs to delivery bags to the cost of commuting.
On paper, the gig economy is marketed as flexible: “Choose your own hours.” “Get paid for completing small tasks.” However, many of the riders I encountered rely on this labor as their primary source of income, often due to language barriers, immigration challenges, or the absence of viable alternatives.
Even before I conducted my first interview, I noticed something telling: a number of the drivers I approached didn’t speak English well enough to participate. Others were in too much of a rush to stop—another clue into how tight their schedules and margins really are.
How I Did My Reporting
I approached this project like a journalist. I wrote a script of questions, asked drivers for consent, recorded short conversations with a voice recorder app on my phone, and took notes after each interview. I walked around Stevens campus and up and down Washington Street, approaching drivers who were stopped between orders. Some interactions were brief. A few drivers didn’t have time to talk at all. But three drivers gave me enough time to paint a picture of what fast food delivery work in Hoboken is really like.
Driver One: Twelve Hours for Eighteen Dollars
My first interview was completely unplanned. I approached a driver waiting outside UCC—an African immigrant in his mid-30s with a warm demeanor but limited English. He delivered for Grubhub. When I asked about his hours, he replied without hesitation: “Ten to ten. Every day.” That’s twelve hours, seven days a week.
Then he told me his earnings: “Eighteen dollars.” Not per hour—per day. I thought he had misspoken. But he repeated it, slowly and clearly, spelling it out:
“one-eight per day, one-zero-zero per week.” He also paid out of pocket for his electric bike, which costs about $2 every five miles for charging and maintenance. Even if he rode conservatively, his net earnings were shockingly low. After subtracting e-bike expenses, he is effectively making well under minimum wage—closer to cents on the dollar.
He sighed and said, “The pay is not good for me.” This was my first conversation, and already I was staring directly at the inequality my project set out to uncover.
Driver Two: Ponde, the Harlem Commuter
My second interview was with a man named Ponde, a French-speaking rider from Burkina Faso, Africa. He also delivers for Grubhub and is around the same age as my first driver—in his 30s. Ponde works eight hours a day, every day of the week. He told me he typically earns $100 to $150 a day. At first glance, this appears to be a significant departure from the first driver, but as we discussed further, it became evident why his experience differs. Grubhub pays per delivery, not per hour. Drivers may only get a few orders on slow days, which drastically reduces their income. But on busier days, or during weekend rushes, drivers like Ponde might reach higher totals. Still, even with his higher daily pay, he said plainly that he was unhappy with the rates. “It’s no good, no,” he told me. He also commutes from Harlem to Hoboken every day, adding both time and cost before he even begins work. Whatever “flexibility” the gig economy promises certainly didn’t apply to him.
Driver Three: Salem, the Weekend Workhorse
My final and most detailed interview was with Salem, a 23-year-old Grubhub rider originally from Egypt. He lives in Journal Square with his brother. Salem was cheerful, talkative, and unusually optimistic about his job compared to the first two drivers. He works eight hours a day, usually starting at 11 a.m. He told me he typically earns $120 for eight hours, $160 for twelve hours, and up to $600 on busy weekends due to Grubhub’s incentive missions.
These “missions,” he explained, serve as game-like challenges: complete a certain number of deliveries within a timeframe and get a bonus. According to Christy England’s report from the Employee Rights Advocacy Institute, gig platforms frequently use gamification to encourage employees to work longer hours. Salem said he earns about $7 per delivery, meaning slow periods can cripple his earnings. Still, he seemed to enjoy the flexibility and said, “No problem. I have no problem with this. It is easy, very, very easy.”
But even Salem—my most positive interview—admitted there is no union, no driver support network, and that every driver works completely independently. They look out for themselves because no one else is looking out for them.
The Political Moment: Hoboken’s Mayoral Debate
As I was conducting this research, Hoboken’s mayoral election was unfolding. Candidates Michael Russo and Emily Jabbour were both vocal about delivery drivers—but with very different visions. Russo promoted more stringent enforcement, including ticketing for red-light violations, punishing unregistered e-bikes, and addressing public safety issues. He branded himself as a “pro-worker advocate,” supporting e-bike battery safety certifications and improved safety programs.
Jabbour, meanwhile, proposed geofencing technology to track and penalize unsafe driving, community rest spaces for e-bike riders, and charging stations sponsored by the apps themselves. She ultimately won the runoff election on December 2nd.
This raises an important question for Hoboken and cities across the country: Can delivery work be regulated without harming the workers who depend on it?
Unfair Pay, Hidden Costs, and a System Designed for Speed
All three drivers emphasized one thing: time is everything. According to ZipRecruiter, these apps reward speed, completion rate, and positive customer reviews. If a driver is slow—due to rain, restaurant delays, or traffic—they risk losing out on tips, bonuses, ratings, and may be penalized. This pressure explains why so many riders run red lights or drive on sidewalks. The system encourages it.
Even worse, the actual income is hidden by the pay structure. Drivers must pay for e-bike charging and repairs, delivery bags, phone data, commuting costs, and sometimes replacing stolen or broken equipment. Grubhub advertises that drivers “keep 100% of their tips,” but tips are inconsistent, frequently low, or nonexistent. Meanwhile, base pay fluctuates dramatically.
Even optimistic drivers like Salem admit they circle the city all day to stay profitable. And drivers like my first interview subject—who netted less than a dollar an hour after expenses—reveal just how brutal the system can be.
The Bigger Picture: Hoboken as a Microcosm of America
The stories I heard reflect a national trend: the rise of gig work as a substitute for stable employment. Companies profit by avoiding responsibility for worker welfare. They never meet their drivers. They don’t provide benefits. They push the financial risk onto the worker. And now, instead of improving pay, companies like Grubhub are investing in delivery robots as their next major innovation. Jersey City has already seen these robots rolling along sidewalks. Hoboken may be next. I don’t believe robots will fully “take over,” but the direction of investment says something important: the company cares more about efficiency than the humans doing the labor.
Toward Fairness: What Needs to Change
There are, however, various potential solutions: minimum hourly guarantees, per-mile compensation for longer routes, algorithmic pay transparency, city-sponsored rest areas, safety equipment and training, and even opportunities for collective bargaining. Regrettably, businesses whose strategies rely on keeping costs low will need to adapt to these developments. Politicians like Mayor Jabbour could advocate for these improvements, but sustained pressure is required to effect actual change.
Conclusion: The Human Cost of Convenience
Food delivery drivers are essential to Hoboken, as they keep restaurants functioning and customers fed. Yet they earn low wages, face safety risks, and work long hours with little support. All three of the real people I interviewed—regardless of background, age, or optimism—revealed some form of unfairness built into the job. We often tap a few buttons on our phones without thinking about who is pedaling through the rain to bring us that food. But there is always a real person on that bike, working against the clock for pay that often doesn’t match the effort.
Remember: behind every delivery, there’s a story of a human being—at least for now.
